Bittersweet Apples
by TheMusicMistress
Summary: Sequel to Chocolate Mangoes. Set in Book 2. Five weeks of separation. One is now an exiled Prince, the other an ally of the avatar. "He missed her. His Katara. His water bender." Zuko/Katara


Bittersweet Apples

By: TheMusicMistress

Author's note: This is the revised version. I didn't like how overly dramatic and un-avatarish it became at the end. This one makes more sense, I think. And I know, my writing style changes every few months so it's totally uneven. Far from perfect, I know, but I'm working on it! Enjoy!

OooO

Day 1

Stupid Iroh and his attempts to counsel him out of his so-called stupor. Zuko was fine. It wasn't like he was hung up on her, or anything.

Day 3

Katara slipped into the hot springs that they had stumbled upon during their travels. The hot water was heavenly against her skin.

It was foolish, but hesitantly she raised her wrist and sniffed it. Gone. His scent was gone.

Luckily, with the heat from the hot springs causing profuse sweating, no one noticed the tears sliding down her cheeks.

Day 5

General Zhao, a suck-up of the Fire Lord and naturally a pain in Zuko's ass, had been trailing their ship for days. What, did he think that Zuko wouldn't notice a huge-looking barge floating a few yards away?

Zhao was always looking for glory and attention from the Fire Nation people. Last time he checked, Zuko was sure that hanging persistently onto the end of his ship like a loose piece of crap didn't win anybody any medals.

It would be nice to look at the water for once and not taste her in his mouth.

Day 6

He didn't miss her. He didn't.

Later, his inept, whiny crew members began to swap stories about how female water benders usually had exotic looking eyes and probably more exotic looking bodies. When they asked Zuko if he agreed, he blasted a hole through the wall.

Day 7

Aang told her that eventually they had to find their way to the great city of Ba Sing Se, where they would hopefully meet up with his old friend, Boopie-Something. Katara nodded, not really caring.

That is, until Aang noted that since the city was so large and an obvious destination for the avatar, that they might have a confrontation with Zuko there.

Katara quickly became the prime motivator in inching her group faster toward the city.

Day 8

The hole in the wall was causing them some minor problems. Zuko made Muro sleep in the hull to make sure too much water didn't get in.

Over a week since his encounter with her. He did not want her back, of course, but still, he had to wonder what she was doing. And if she was thinking about him. And if she missed him.

Ok. Maybe he missed her, but only by a minutely, infinitesimally small amount.

Day 10

Sokka yelled at her after he found his money pouch devoid of coins and her arms filled to the brim with mangoes. He demanded why, out of all the food in the market, she had to pick those.

She simply shrugged.

Day 11

Damn General Zhao and his nosiness. Damn his father for sending him to make his life a million times harder.

Zuko had awoken to the news that General Zhao had been following Zuko to disclose the location of the avatar. Zuko had sent no such orders for finding the avatar though, seeing how preoccupied he was with _not _missing the water bender. So Zhao got impatient and began to search for the avatar on his own. Easy enough, because unfortunately, when one rode on a giant and floating hairy dog, it was rather hard to conceal your location.

Obviously he couldn't let Zhao capture the avatar. So Zuko, in his cunning, created a blue demon mask and donned clothes as dark as midnight. He snuck onto Zhao's ship, knocked out the guards, and badly damaged Zhao's ship. He threw all of their carefully charted maps overboard, along with their food.

Disgruntled, and not entirely sure who the perpetrator was, Zhao's crew was forced to return to the Fire Nation for more supplies.

All this action did little to quell the ache in his chest that seemed to be with him from dawn to dusk now.

Day 12

Zhao wasn't as stupid as he looked. He had set up a spy on Zuko's ship, and Zuko, in all of his spaced-out glory, hadn't noticed at all. The spy, a Fire Nation soldier who looked infuriatingly like all of his other crew members, had watched Zuko sneak out onto the deck and steal away onto Zhao's.

That was bad. In the middle of the night, Iroh and Zuko began to pack their stuff.

Was it possible for him to ever run into her again, with the situation like this now?

Day 13

Iroh shook Zuko awake. Azula is here, he said. She's here because of your father. We have to go. She's going to kill you.

Azula, Zuko's mad, psychotic banshee of a younger sister, was his father's favorite. She was born lucky, as Ozai had said, while he was lucky to be born.

Iroh and Zuko managed to slip out of Azula's grasp, but not before setting fire to her ship. Zuko was sure she wasn't happy about that.

Day 14

When Zuko woke up, Iroh told him that they were considered enemies of the Fire Nation. Traitors. Apparently his sister didn't like the little trick they pulled with her ship.

That morning Iroh and Zuko cut off their topknots. Later, they would steal some Earth Kingdom clothes.

It was time for a change.

Would he somehow bump into her, dressed in different clothes, and now running from his own country?

He hoped she was doing well.

Day 16

Day 19

Day 22

Day 24

Day 27

Day 28

Zuko. God, Zuko. Where was he?

OooO

Shit, he missed her.

Zuko shifted his weight as he readjusted himself against the tree he was sitting under. He bent his leg at the knee and leaned his arm lightly against it. A pair of broadswords laid against his hip, and somewhere inside of his ratty pack was a blue demon's mask wrapped in dark fabric. His right bicep ached a little from when he'd foolishly taken a short fall down a hillside as he attempted to "liberate" some food for his uncle and him. Funny how common peasants took one look at his mask and turned into violent apes strong enough to knock him over a cliff. Shit, maybe he should've chosen a less ominous looking mask…

What was she doing right now? Was she thinking about him?

Zuko groaned and hit his head against the hard bark of the tree. Hell would freeze over before he managed to get _her _out of his thoughts. At first, not being able to touch her like he did that night was enough to send him into endless, elaborate plans—plans that involved him kicking his crew's asses, hightailing it to wherever the hell she was, and doing it to her right then and there, with or without an audience. Personally, he had to admit that some of the plans were pretty fancy…but no. That would be crazy. He was the one that told _her _not to pursue him, right? Right.

He absentmindedly rubbed the back of his head, feeling the soft tufts of hair there. He ran his hand along his scalp and up to his forehead, where he thoughtfully tugged on the short spikes. He remembered how she had run her fingers up his back, almost clawing at him in desperation. Then her soft, delicate hands had run up his neck and over the smooth curve of his head to pull him in for another smothering kiss. Would she still like him with his new hair?

He shook his head. That was ridiculous. She wasn't _supposed _to like him. Because frankly, if she ended up liking him…well he'd be knee-deep in a whole lot of uncontrollable crap.

But still. That didn't stop him from burrowing himself into a state of self-induced angst as he thought about her 24/7 and more or less let the misery have at him.

Some shuffling sounds to his right made him turn his head slowly.

"Zuko, look what I found!" his uncle called gleefully, shoving his rotund body through a prickly bush. He had some dirt smudges on his nose and his shirt had rode up a little, revealing a hairy little belly button. Zuko sighed. Did his uncle have no shame? What was he doing, waddling around through the forest, looking like some kind of crazy wreck? Damn, he hoped his uncle had at least enough sense to put some shoes on…

"It's a twig," Zuko said.

"No! Not just any twig…" Iroh paused for effect, which gave Zuko enough time to answer, tiredly, in unison with him, "a tea leaf twig!" Iroh frowned at him as Zuko stared blankly back.

"Geez Zuko," Iroh finally said. "You need help."

Zuko's eyebrow twitched. "I need help? You! Look at you, you—"

But Iroh wasn't listening, instead scurrying around looking for small branches to make a fire with. Zuko's insult died on his lips and he sank back into his tree enclave, letting his own personal rain cloud once again engulf his thoughts.

Iroh glanced over to his nephew, who seemed determine to scorch a hole through the ground with his negative energy. "Zuko," he finally said, fishing out a tea kettle from somewhere inside his bag. "You shouldn't sulk so much."

"And why not?" a grumpy, five-year-old voice shot back. Iroh smiled as he calmly walked over to the river and dipped the tea kettle in, filling it almost to the brim.

"Because," Iroh began as he moved back. "Bee-mosquitos will come and pick at your face and lay eggs in your nostrils."

Zuko didn't answer, but his intense glare lessened up a little and he sat up a little straighter. Iroh had to look away to stifle his chuckles.

"I don't want any," Zuko finally said, noticing the sumptuous amount of water and tea that Iroh was brewing. Iroh glanced over at him with a smile.

"Who said any of this was for you?" he asked with a cheeky smile. "Do you know how rare this tea leaf is? Supposedly it's just a legend but—"

"It's just a twig," Zuko muttered, turning on his side, trying to keep his facial expressions to a minimum. Bee-mosquitos didn't even come out until dusk, right?

Iroh rolled his eyes at his nephew's response. Sulking in itself wasn't foreign to the exiled fire prince, but heavens, sulking for _days _was perhaps a very unnatural thing for him to do indeed. Maybe it was the lack of their inexperienced crew that made him so depressed; Iroh knew that "those morons", as Zuko affectionately named them, could always get a rise out of the boy and distract him from his depressing situation for a few minutes or seconds, depending on how long it took for them to piss their trousers. But now…now Zuko was just a mess.

When Iroh and his crew found Zuko that night, the boy had the most unnatural look on his face. Zuko appeared to be torn between looking extremely satisfied or utterly disappointed. They expected to have to drag a poor, disoriented, and drunk Zuko back to the ship—thoughtful Muro had even brought a stretcher for the occasion, which he broke on accident on the way over, but was still thoughtful nonetheless—but that was not the case. Zuko simply trudged back to the ship himself, looking more dazed and removed than any simply drunk man hoped and pined to be.

To put it frankly, Zuko looked like he had years ago when his father had first dealt him the blow that left him irreversibly scarred.

He's scarred, all right, Iroh mused. Except this time it wasn't on his face for everybody to see. No, it was so obviously in his heart, and it was tearing the boy up. He could barely even move through the necessary dances of life, like eating and sleeping. Iroh didn't even want to see what Zuko would look like in a fight, in his current state. Well, not unless he wanted to risk the chance of seeing his spaced-out nephew's guts strewn out all over the forest.

"And stop pulling on your hair," Iroh told him as he caught his nephew once again raking his hands from the nape of his neck all the way to the top of tuft above his forehead.

"What? Why?" he growled at his Uncle.

"Because…that motion is seen as a mating ritual initiation for platypus-bears, and I think this forest happens to have an abundance of them."

"Ugh." Zuko put his hands down and pitifully rolled to the side so that he was perpendicular to the tree. He spread himself out and slowly closed his eyes. He had a huge tree root jutting out under his spine, but who gave a flying fuck. He was going to take a nap now whether or not the world decided to shit itself to death at the moment.

Iroh rolled his eyes. "Drama queen…" he muttered under his breath.

His nephew had a lot to learn if he wanted to ever get a girl.

OooO

"HEUGHH."

"Oh, that is just g-r-_oss_! Come on Katara, can't you do that some place else? Preferably at least twenty paces away from where I'll be sleeping tonight?"

Katara shakily stood up from her position over the cliff side where she had messily thrown herself down after her sense of nausea had simply been too much for her. Then, after making a few wretched faces and breaking out in a cold sweat, she had all but barfed out that morning's breakfast, lunch, and possibly some suspicious water tribe meat that had been floating around in her stomach for a year. She was completely worse for the wear, and she wasn't in the mood for Sokka's bitching at the moment.

Come to think of it, she hadn't been in the mood for anyone's bitching but her own lately.

But whatever.

"Shut up, Sokka," she moaned, wiping the sweat from her brow. Her vision was shaking a little. Her mouth tasted like a colorful assortment of armpit. She felt like she looked as haggard as hell. "Just shut up."

"Maybe you shouldn't have eaten those five sticks of candied sweet potatoes," Toph, the newest member of their group and supposedly one of the best earthbenders around, graciously commented to her. She turned her stony glare on the small petite child, the foul taste in her mouth the only thing keeping her from unleashing all levels of nasty on the poor girl.

"I. Was. Hungry," Katara growled primordially, feeling less like a refined young girl and more like a hermit slash banshee slash cannibal thing.

"You're wasting our money," Sokka cried mutinously, suddenly. "You wheedle money out of me for food, and then you just end up barfing it all up anyway! Totally useless barf! Does the barf help the plants? Can we sell the barf for money? Will it help us defeat the Firelord? I'll tell you the answer to all those questions: it's NO."

Katara was five seconds from possibly committing a homicide, with the victim hopefully being her brother. At that point though she was so sick and irritated that she was nearly sure any body would do.

"Leave me alone!" she snapped. "I'm sick, ok? So just leave me alone!"

Toph glanced at Aang, who was feebly standing back as Katara and Sokka fought. Normally he would try to intervene, but ten mere minutes ago Katara had literally bitten him on the arm after he had attempted to sneak a piece of her pickled tofu squares out of her sack. And unfortunately it hadn't been an affectionate love nip either; rather, Aang was now nursing a rather sizable, red, swollen, and incised circle in his upper arm.

"Hey Twinkle Toes, aren't you supposed to be the mediator?" Toph asked him. Aang shook his head at her.

"Uh, normally I would be, but..uh…Katara bit me. So I think I'll hang out on this one."

"Ah. Safe choice." She sighed. "Hey, why do we let Katara eat so much anyway if she's sick? Aren't we supposed to be like, making her just drink water?"

Aang nodded slowly. "Well, we did try once. We hid the money from her and tried to abstain her from all foods for a day…but then she just went and threw all our spare undergarments over Appa's side while we were flying. I was driving and Sokka was sleeping so we didn't notice until it was too late."

"That sucks."

"Yeah. But we got some new underwear out of the deal."

"OK, that's IT!" Sokka hollered suddenly in the background as Katara's gag noises floated over. "I don't know _what's _up with you and your stomach, but you obviously need to see a doctor or something. You've been yakking all over the place for the past _**week**_."

"Euggghhhh…."

"AGH! MY SHOES! Ok, SERIOUSLY, we are heading for the closest doctor. Now."

Katara nodded numbly, for once agreeing with him.

OooO

"Uncle, I hate you."

"Zuko—Zuko, now isn't the time for your jokes."

"No shit!" Zuko cried, pointing to Iroh's face. What the man's face was _not _was unblemished and un-swollen. In fact, the ex-general look like he had just taken a roll through a fire-ant colony ensconced in poison ivy and then scarfed down some poisonous mushrooms. All of those options seemed plausible in Zuko's mind.

Not that it would've helped to know what had really happened anyway. Zuko didn't know a thing about first aid.

This is what Zuko got for falling asleep under the tree while his uncle drank his merry tea and apparently went his merry way through uncharted parts of the forest. His back was sore from that root that he "didn't give a flying fuck about", he was officially Katara-deprived, and his uncle looked like a raspberry with legs. Life was great.

"You need a doctor," Zuko muttered finally, still somehow trying to convince himself that his uncle was faking his ugly welts. "I mean…look at you."

"Your powers of observation will never fail to amaze me, Zuko," Iroh said around puffy cheeks. "And apparently neither will your overwhelming capacity for compassion."

Zuko cringed, feeling bad about being so rude with his uncle. What did he know? His uncle could be in severe pain and was just hiding it well. To make up for his transgression, Zuko walked over to his uncle and pointed to his back. "I could carry you to a doctor," he offered.

Iroh laughed.

"Zuko, I think my weight far surpasses the strength in your wobbly knees."

Zuko scowled. "I do not have wobbly knees."

"Of course you do. You look like a stick with teeth. No, I think I can walk myself to a doctor…wherever that is."

His nephew glanced briefly at the sky. If they walked fast, they could make it before nightfall.

OooO

"Say _ahh_."

"_Ahh_—"

"—hey, what're you doing?! We just told you her puke factor is seriously high right now!"

Katara gave a dirty glare at Sokka, who had insisted on hovering over Katara's shoulder as the young medicine apprentice did a routine check up. Sokka said it was all out of support for his darling sister, but Katara, in her sick-and-suddenly-very-keen state, knew that it was probably because Sokka could get a prime view of the girl's cleavage over her shoulder.

"Sokka, please stop breathing down my neck, literally. It's making me feel really uncomfortable."

Toph and Aang were sitting on a low bench by the door. The building was framed by wood and then covered by hard packed earth. Green was everywhere. The borders of the room were green, the sheets that Katara was lying on were a forest green, and light green linens flapped around the open windows of the wide and somewhat empty building.

"Where do you think that door leads?" Aang asked, pointing to the break in the wall. Two large green sheets decorated with orange and blue flowers covered the opening half-way from the ceiling to the floor.

Toph slowly turned to Aang. "Another room for patients, I guess. But I can't really be sure, you know, since I can't exactly see what you're pointing at. At all."

"Oh. Right. Heh…"

"Have you been having any shortness of breath lately?" the medic said.

Sokka whispered loudly over Katara's shoulder. "Answer her truthfully."

"No." Was her brother always this annoying?

"Dizziness?"

"A little."

"Hallucinations?"

Katara bit her lip. If hallucinations meant having dreams about his arms wrapped around her, only to wake up sweating and feeling very, very cold and alone, then yes. "Sort of."

"Sort of?" the assistant asked. She said everything in a slow, high-pitched squeak.

Katara reiterated. She wasn't going to tell the truth to some barely-thirteen assistant with a tiny voicebox, while her currently perverted brother peeked over her shoulder. "Yes. Sort of."

The medical assistant scribbled something down on parchment. She was gnawing at her lip and it irritated Katara. Everything irritated Katara. The green in the room was blaring at her, making her feel envious and toady. She suddenly wanted to be back at her home in the South Pole, curled up in her furry bed.

"Umm…miss…"

"What."

The assistant fiddled with her pen. "Well…um…have you…have you had sexual intercourse lately?"

OooO

"Heavens! I've never seen such a severe reaction to the poisonous lotus berry…" the doctor said as he ushered the sick Iroh onto a green bed held firmly on wooden legs.

Iroh chuckled, although the action seemed to cause him pain. Zuko bit the inside of his cheek. "As a tea connoisseur, I simply couldn't resist risking it to see if it was the fabled dragonkiss berry…"

"Ah," the doctor said. "Now that I think of it, they do look rather alike. The dragonkiss berry is just a legend though, sir, and you should know better than to eat unfamiliar fruits…"

Zuko was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and wearing a deep frown, but upon hearing the doctor's words he flinched. _He's right_, Zuko thought, suddenly feeling an intense pain in his chest. He felt like he was being crushed beneath a huge, unforeseen force. _He's completely right. Unfamiliar fruits…all sorts of problems…_

Shelves lined the walls, and each shelf was stacked full of jars and vials, so much that Zuko thought they'd all collapse with any additional pressure. Earth benders probably made the house though, Zuko mused, and they had probably created some counterweight for just that sort of accident. The doctor was hovering his hand back and forth over the jars, supposedly looking for the right cure.

"So is he your son?" the doctor asked.

Iroh smiled, and for a moment Zuko's heart rose out of it's depressed stupor. "No, unfortunately. He is simply my nephew."

"Ah. So, are you two sightseeing or something?"

Iroh watched Zuko's head droop back down, seemingly no longer concerned with the direction of the conversation. He gave a cryptic grin. "Something like that."

"Travelling for a while then?" The doctor had finally located the right jar, a rotund brown one. He twisted the top open and dipped his fingers inside.

"Yes."

"Can you take off your top, please? I want to make sure we get all the affected areas…yes, like that. So," he said as he began massaging the cream into Iroh's welts, "would you also like to give your nephew a check up? Free of charge," he offered. "I myself love to travel, and I always respect fellows who want to go out and see the world…"

Iroh chuckled, a throaty sound because of his slightly swollen neck. "My nephew needs more than a check up. He's _very_ depressed."

Zuko's eyebrow twitched.

"That's never good," the doctor said. He was going to buy some more cream after this... "Over what, possibly?"

"He won't tell me," Iroh said. He winked at the doctor, a very sluggish movement. "But I think it's a girl."

Iroh was lucky that Zuko didn't make it a policy to beat on swollen old men.

He grunted. "It's not a girl."

OooO

"I'm sorry, come again?"

Katara shoved Sokka away from her face. "She asked me, you dolt, not _you_."

The assistant giggled a little, a nervous sound. "Well, you see…based on your symptoms…I mean—" she stuttered, becoming increasingly aware of Katara's glower. "You just might be…pre—"

"That's impossible," Katara interjected. "Because I've never done…_that_ before. Ever," she added, her eyes glowing menacingly. Zuko would be proud.

The assistant blinked at her a few times. "Well…then." She scratched her head, squinting at the parchment. "I'm not really sure what—" she bit her lip. "Are you _sure _you haven't done it before?"

Instead of lashing out, Katara looked off the the side, her eyes becoming distant. "I'm…sure."

It had been four weeks. Four weeks, she noted, with no sign of Zuko at all. In normal--as in before they had randy, whild sex--times, Zuko would be on their heels without fail within a day. But now, with the absence of the vengeful prince, and with no logical way to contact him, Katara found herself filled with daydreams about him. She even missed fighting with him, even though she knew that deep down that would probably kill any feelings they might've had.

In those four weeks Katara had thoughts that would've incriminated her if Sokka and Aang ever found out. Sometimes she'd be so desperate to feel his heat or hear his voice that she considered risking the Avatar's safety to bring the prince closer. _Almost_. But of course—and thankfully—Zuko was never around to pick up on those.

The water bender found herself wondering if Zuko was still alive. She knew that she only got to know Zuko for a night—and maybe not even the real Zuko, since he was rather intoxicated then. She knew that if Zuko was dead, by all means, she should be celebrating. She knew those things.

And yet, she missed him.

Maybe Katara didn't seek him out because deep down she knew that she was the only one that missed the contact. She was sure that Zuko had better things on his mind than her. He was the son of the Fire Lord, after all, and had no time to think about a silly water bender with a now painfully obvious crush.

He probably had a court of Fire Nation girls waiting for him back home, too.

Katara's chest tightened.

"_If you were a firebender I'd take you with me and treat you like a queen."_

"_Zuko, I think I like you." _

"_Can we pretend we're in love?" _

"_Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere." _

"_Zuko, do you want me?" _

"_Zuko…Zuko…Zuko…" _

She missed him. So much. She knew it was ridiculous, and that she was just fitting into the stereotype that young girls always fell fast and hard. She didn't care though. Because--even if it was a millisecond--she saw a side of Zuko that made her attracted to him. Bound to him, knowing that he had the ability to turn into a something better. A great man.

Katara recognized the seductive pull of depression but did little to fight it. Why wasn't he chasing after them right now? If he was a true prince, he'd be jumping through the windows or something and trying to snatch them all away. He'd be there to grace her with his smoldering eyes and sweet smell.

"Miss…Miss…?"

Or maybe he had returned to the Fire Nation. Maybe he was lounging on a plush red couch with a girl who had nice long black hair and perfect, Fire Nation eyes. Maybe he was sitting with her and laughing about the foolish water bender he had tricked into screwing.

"_I'd try to take care of you as best I could…" _

"_Maybe someday…I'll give you what I said I last night…"_

Tears started to spill out of her eyes. Or maybe he was dead. Really, permanently gone. And here she was, moping about his infidelity when he could already be six feet under. He'd never be there for her to clash with. She'd never run her fingers over his scar and listen to his thudding heartbeat…

"Katara? Katara, snap out of it!"

Hands were on her shoulders. Suddenly she felt very dizzy. Her stomach started to churn violently, and she clenched her eyes tight, trying to hold it in.

"Katara? KATARA!"

OooO

Zuko couldn't breathe.

"Katara! Katara!"

His vision was unfocused. The doctor clucked disapprovingly. "Really, they're being too loud. They'll wake some of my other patients."

Iroh glanced sharply at Zuko, who was suddenly clutching the door frame behind him like a lifeline. Despite his swollen state and his reduced senses, Iroh could still smell the telltale stench of burning wood.

"Lee," Iroh said cuttingly, loud enough to pull Zuko out of reverie. Zuko loosened his grip on the wood, and clenched his fists tight enough so that his nails began slicing into his palm.

The doctor paused as Iroh raised his palm in the air. "I think that's enough, doctor," he said, his gaze never wavering from his nephew.

Zuko grit his teeth. One hand was gripping his chest as if he intended on tearing his heart out, and the other one was squeezed into a knuckle-white fist. He suddenly found himself breathing very hard as he weighed his options.

The logical part of him said that it could be just another girl with the same name, and a suspiciously same sounding brother. Separated by a green flowered sheet, he had no way of proving that the Katara on the other side was _his _Katara.

And even if it was--mind you, _if--_he had no right to sudden throw his hands up in joy. He had no right to talk or think about her. She was not his. Most of all, it was definitely not in his best interest to burst through the curtains to see if it was truly her.

This is the line. We do not cross it. That's what he told her.

"Katara!"

Zuko's heart throbbed. Damn it. Godddammit.

That voice. There was no doubt about it—that was the voice of the young, bratty avatar. Heaven only knew that that voice had haunted him in the worst of nightmares.

And where the avatar was...the waterbender was sure to follow.

Hot jealous spurted in his vains, burning like acid. He felt his body temperature increase in anger at the thought of Katara finding solace in the avatar's spindly arms after he himself gave her up. He knew, again, that he had no right to feel so slighted, and yet he did.

Because maybe he didn't own her, but by all means, it felt like she certainly owned him.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that this was his chance to finally nab the avatar. The avatar was _**right there**_, protected from the vindictive prince by only a flimsy green sheet. Even though his uncle was injured, Zuko was sure he would have the upper hand due to the surprise attack. They didn't, after all, know that it was he who was sitting right in the next room.

But every molecule in his body rebelled against this idea. Despite being trained for over four years that his only goal was to capture the avatar, despite having dreams every night of finally returning to his father as an honorable prince, capturing the avatar was the last thing on his mind. Because lately his dreams hadn't been of the avatar but of a soft tanned body and endless blue eyes. Because now, more than anything, more than honor and his father and his home, he wanted her in his arms.

Fuck propriety. Comparing his relative safety to the prospect of seeing her again was like comparing a trickling stream to a raging waterfall. It just didn't make sense to ignore the one that held more power and sway.

"Zuko!" Iroh called, dropping the fake name in a moment of hot panic. He knew his nephew, and he knew what his nephew was like when he was impulsive. And he would be damned if he let Zuko's hidden agenda--whatever it was right now--trump their need for safety.

He was old though, and although he contained brute strength, he simply didn't have the agility that Zuko had. The lean boy dodged his attempts and made it to the sheet as if he hadn't been stopped at all.

The doctor was considerably alarmed, both at the sudden change in atmosphere and at the hostility and speed that the formerly quiet and brooding boy was displaying. "Sir? Sir! You cannot go in there! It is against the rules to intrude on patient's privacy—"

Zuko turned on the doctor with an overwhelming growl as the man tried to block him from reaching the flowered sheet. How _dare _anyone stand in his way at this moment.

"Move," he said, his voice rough. He didn't have time for this man. He easily shoved the doctor out of the way and literally tore the sheet from the ceiling.

OooO

Sokka was madly yelling at the medic and "how it was YOUR questioning that put Katara into such a state, lookit her she's bawling" and how "I'm gonna get youIdon'tknowhowbutIwill" when he saw an all-too-familiar face over her shoulder.

After three weeks of peace, Sokka had started to believe that the gods had finally decided to remove the crabby eyesore from the face of the earth. He, for one, definitely wouldn't have minded stumbling upon Zuko's grave one day, because if so, Sokka would have pissed right on it, without hesitation.

But apparently the gods had yet to smite the asshole into oblivion, because standing there in the doorway, looking as angry as a beaten badger-mole, was none other than Prince Zuko.

"If you're here for the avatar, you can just forget it!" Sokka said, pushing the medic to the side and tugging out his boomerang. Behind him Toph was spewing questions out randomly, not understanding why all of her friend's heartbeats suddenly got faster.

"Zuko!?" Aang cried.

This room was smaller than his uncle's, Zuko quickly noted. Less shelving, more benches and beds. A lot of burnable shit. That was good, if push came to shove. When he heard his name being called by a higher voice than Sokka's, he instantly honed in on it.

The avatar. The Bow-Down-And-Worship-My-Amazing-Monkness freaking Avatar.

Aang was standing in front of Katara, his hands gripping her shoulders tightly. Hands that Zuko would've early begrudgingly admit were talented now looked dirty and childish and out of place on Katara. His face was too damn close to hers when he had first burst into the room. Worse, Aang had the gall to step closer to Katara when Zuko made his presence known. Closer to Katara.

Zuko's mind was instantly wiped clean of all the arguments he had built up in his head. Feeling the anger surge through him like lightening, he had little left to do but admit it to himself.

He was jealous of Aang, of everyone close to her. He wanted to feel that intimacy with her. He _had_ at one point. And he threw it all away. It was like throwing away a brick of gold--completely irrational. It wasn't like...like...

Oh wait. Of course. The trillion-miles-a-second thoughts stuttered in his head. He had given her up for _her._ To protect her. It wasn't about denying himself the guilty pleasure of it. It was simply to keep her away from the fire nation soldiers, and possibly from estrangement of her friends.

Of course, if he had his way with her, she'd never need those friends to fall back on ever again.

All of those thoughts went in and out in less than a second, and Zuko stared at Katara, willing her to look at him.

Slowly, mechanically, Katara's head turned to the door. Her eyes were puffy and swollen. Zuko's eyebrow twitched in irritation. He had left Katara, assuming that her friends would more than take care of her. But here she was, shaking, twisting her dress into knots, and looking thin and malnourished.

Screw being under cover. Zuko was going to burn the entire building down and take Katara away and hold her and feed her and love her…

"Zu—ko…" she whispered. Her clenching heart had picked up pace, beating so loud that she was sure everybody in the room could hear it.

He was here, she told herself. He was actually, truly here. He wasn't a hallucination. He couldn't be, because she was sure as hell that she'd never felt this crappy when she was having one of her dreams.

He looked different than before, she quickly assessed. He had shed his topknot and now sported short tufts of wayward hair. He was garbed in green Earth Kingdom clothes, and he looked leaner than usual. Perhaps it was the lack of armor.

His eyes still smoldered though, and when he finally locked eyes were her, she suddenly started to cry.

She had missed him. She thought he was dead, or that he had run off with a Fire Nation girl. And now he was back. It was unforgivable to think that he'd actually let her mope around alone. If the expression on his face was any indication, it looked like he'd been through as much hell--possibly even more--as she had.

She tried to drink in his face as much as she possibly could in the span of she didn't even know how much. He looked hungry, but it wasn't the sort that could be cured with food. He was staring at her intensely, and she hoped that was good. Did he still find her attractive? Did he still want her like he did that night? She hoped that the burning in his eyes meant that that was a yes.

Reality was a bitch though, and suddenly a boomerang whizzed past Zuko's face, slicing the side of his ear. He flinched. Katara's heart stuttered as the earth came crashing back down around her.

"You're making her cry more with your ugly face!" Sokka yelled, completely and infuriatingly misjudging Katara's expression. Aang said something in agreement, and bent some of the water out of a bowl on an adjacent bedside table. Clearly ready for a fight.

It's not as if he wasn't ready either (practically _itching _for a fight), but the sudden futility of it was quickly drowning him. Aang was already poised to attack, Sokka had his weapon, and there was a mysterious girl there would didn't look like she would take shit for an answer. And even though earlier it seemed as if seeing Katara was paramount to staying undercover...well staying undercover compared to being squelched by Azula was another thought process entirely.

Not being able to firebend was like a slap in the face. Realizing that staring at Katara had completely distracted him and turned him to mush was a punch in the gut.

"Get out of here!" Aang yelled. Nice to see that the kid was still sticking to his spineless ways and attempting to be diplomatic. Zuko was already in the room though, and he wasn't about to leave Katara--and his pride--at the door.

It was dangerous to look away from the enemy, but even so Zuko stole a glance at her. And it was worth it, because even though he knew that it was better if she wasn't attached to him, his dead heart swelled a little at the way she looked at him.

"Katara—" he blurted suddenly, taking a step toward her. (_God, what am I __**doing**__?_) Her thoughts seemed to be on the same wavelength, but she still reached toward him, as if pulled by some gravitational force.

And then Aang was there, and Zuko barely had time to dodge as three icicle daggers narrowly missed his shoulder. The small girl, who he figured was some orphan that their ragtag group had picked out of a ditch, jumped in front of Aang and spread her arms in front of her. Zuko realized belatedly that she was an earth bender, and nearly slammed his head on the ceiling when she made the ground beneath him shoot up.

"Zuko!" Iroh yelled, grabbing onto his nephew's wrist. The earth bender had momentarily created a solid wall between the two rooms. His uncle was here, with him on one side, while Katara and her friends were poised for a confrontation on the other.

The wall rushed seamlessly back into the ground before he was able to make the choice between the two. Aang was waiting for him on the other side with a massive gust of air, and Zuko was blown back so hard that he took the doctor's door with him on the way out. The door landed painfully on the ground a good thirty feet away and skidded to a stop on the hard dirt road. Zuko groaned and stumbled quickly to his feet, aware of the sizeable splinter embedded in his side. He had to be ready for anything, ready..for...

The gaping doorway was empty.

It was eerily quiet, except for muted screeching of the medical assistant.

Realization hit Zuko like a brick. No one was coming out of the house. Of course not. The avatar was probably not aware of his defection with the Fire Nation.

The avatar was running, as always, because he believed that Zuko was still a prince. That he still commanded a force that no longer existed.

"Zuko?" Iroh was there at his elbow, helping him to stay standing. "Zuko we need to--Zuko, no!" Iroh grabbed him painfully around the wrist. He hadn't even realized he had been trying to scramble back to the house. The urge to just see her again was that strong.

"Let it go!" Iroh said, probably assuming that Zuko was still fuming over letting the avatar escape. Zuko knew this, and yet fury overtook him for a second. As if he was going to let anyone tell him to let her go. Only she could decide that.

The fury ebbed away as quickly as it came though, and Zuko was left feeling numb. Iroh had taken over dragging his nephew back into the forest since the boy seemed incapable of moving his own limbs. He followed along, robotic and unfeeling. Watching the world through glassy eyes.

It wasn't until Iroh's heaving and panting became nearly impossible to ignore that Zuko awoke from his stupor. Zuko stopped moving and quietly ordered his uncle to rest. He silently thanked his uncle with a firm pat on the shoulder, and slid into the darkness of the forest. They needed to find a place to stay.

He dodged around the trees, quiet and unnoticed.

He was back five minutes later.

OooO

"Just rest, uncle."

Zuko pulled a comforter from his uncle's pack and laid it on the ground. He had found a shelter beneath a few large, overlapping boulders, so that they made what looked like a small stone hut. The large rock above them jutted out enough so that the avatar would not be able to discern their location simply from the air, and the thick line of trees and roots were enough to give Zuko warning if they got too close.

He tugged a small fruit from his sack that he'd been saving. Iroh and he had fled for the forest, since it would be difficult for the avatar to give chase there with his giant overbearing flying turd of a pet. Plus, it was the closest area for them to easily hide in. It was rather hard for Iroh to run, after all, with the painful welts constantly rubbing against his clothes.

It was getting colder, but Zuko didn't dare to light a fire just yet, since the glow would be easily visible in the darkening forest. Instead he layered their blankets onto his uncle's body, ignoring the goose bumps that flecked his arms.

"Zuko?" Iroh said after a few moments. He was lying prone with his arms held close to his sides, his eyes closed and peaceful.

"Yes uncle."

"That night we found you."

Zuko cringed.

"You were with that water bender, weren't you?"

Zuko hung his head. No point in hiding it from his uncle now. He had made it obvious then that the only person he had eyes for was Katara. If the avatar didn't notice the blatant way he was staring at her, then the boy really was dense.

"Yes."

Iroh was silent for a moment, but Zuko could've sworn his saw a smile pass on Iroh's lips. "…why, I must ask."

Zuko sighed. "I really, really don't know."

Half an hour passed, and soon Zuko heard the drawling snores of his uncle. It was completely dark out now, and the avatar seemed to be nowhere near their location. They had probably fled in the other direction, still under the impression that Zuko was the commander of a ship of Fire Nation soldiers. If only.

Zuko wandered out of the cave and gathered tinder and twigs to build a fire for his uncle. He was annoying half the time, but he didn't want the poor man to freeze.

Zuko created a fire big enough to last the old man the whole night. He fished a flask of water of out his pack and placed it close to his uncle's head, in case he felt thirsty during the night. Zuko had already given Iroh all of the blankets, and the extra layer of clothing he had on. Was he forgetting anything else?

Oh. Zuko crawled slowly over to Iroh and fixed him with a deep glare. His uncle had a way of faking a lot of things, especially when it came to falling asleep. He had to make sure his uncle was really in Snoozeville.

"Uncle," he called softly. He didn't budge. He raised his voice. "Uncle! There's a dragonkiss berry!" The man's snores stuttered, but he didn't so much as budge. Satisfied, Zuko slipped away from his uncle, his hand fishing in his pack. He slipped off his shirt and replaced it with a black one, and similarly for his pants and shoes.

"I'm sorry, uncle," he whispered, as he fastened a grinning, blue devil's mask over his face. "But I have to see her."

OooO

TBC


End file.
